


A Friendly Spar

by bobthebobking



Series: What if... Yamcha and Mr Satan... fell in love... ahaha, just kidding... unless...? [2]
Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: M/M, Pre-Android Saga, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2020-07-31 13:42:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20116015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bobthebobking/pseuds/bobthebobking
Summary: Hercule invites Yamcha over to train!





	A Friendly Spar

**Author's Note:**

> this part is v much just like setting things up but i hope u still enjoy it c: takes place after A Fresh Start!

After a few weeks in their new apartment, Yamcha and Puar finally felt settled in. Yamcha went out and got a part time job at an auto shop. He’d always been good with vehicles, so he figured spending a few hours each week working on them would be fun. He didn’t necessarily need the money- he still had plenty saved up from his stint as a baseball player, but he didn’t want his life to just be monotonous training for the next two and a half years until the androids did or didn’t show up.

Yamcha still wasn’t entirely sold on the truth of that prediction, but it was better to train than to be sorry.

He also went out and got a haircut. The shaggy hair was fun and all, but how could he move on from Bulma if he still looked the way he had after he was wished back to life? Yamcha got it trimmed short, shorter than he’d ever worn it before, and he loved it. Maybe it was the life upheaval that made him love the drastic change so much, but he didn’t have the energy to dwell on it. It was shorter than it’d been at the 21st World Martial Arts Tournament, so his bangs weren’t resting on his forehead. Puar approved of it, telling Yamcha it made him look mature. She said “mature” but Yamcha heard “old,” so he bought some styling gel and spiked it up. Because that’s definitely what young people were doing with their hair these days.

When Yamcha came out of the bathroom all spiked up the first time, he shot Puar a confident “What do you think?” 

Puar stared at him, contemplating, then mewed, “But I liked it down!”

“Come on, Puar! That’s too _boring_. I think the spikes give me an edge, yaknow? Like, if you mess with me, you’re gonna get the fangs!” As Yamcha spoke he flexed and struck some fighting poses, trying to sway Puar onto his side. Puar brought her little paw up to her chin, tapping it thoughtfully a few times. 

“Okay! I think I can see what you mean, Yamcha! You look good!!” She flew over to him, tapping one of his spikes experimentally, visibly relieved when she wasn’t met with the pain the pointy hair seemed to promise. After touching one, she felt obligated to touch them all, so she stayed there floating above Yamcha’s head, swatting each spike. Yamcha laughed, trying to get her to stop, but she dodged each of his attempts to grab her with a few small giggles of her own.

Their shenanigans were put to an end when Yamcha heard the phone ring. He didn’t really get many calls lately- most of the people who would have reason to call him were focused on training. When he looked at the number it wasn’t one he recognized, so it probably wasn’t the auto shop or any of his friends. He furrowed his brow, trying to think of whose number this could be, before shrugging and answering.

“Hello, this is Yamcha.”

A loud voice answered him with a “Heya Yamcha, it’s Hercule!” Yamcha immediately perked up.

“Oh, hey Mr. Satan! How’ve you been?” Puar floated over, looking at him curiously. Yamcha had totally forgotten to tell Puar about him.

“I’ve been busy, doing a lot of public appearances and promos and boy, let me tell you, I am _exhausted_!” Yamcha gave a laugh at that.

“I feel you there, man. Doing publicity stuff was always the worst when I played baseball. The only thing that made it bearable were the little kids getting all excited to see us, like we were the coolest thing to exist.” He felt a little wistful thinking back on those days. Kids were always so enthusiastic and happy to meet the Taitans in person, eagerly posing for pictures and asking for autographs.

“Baseball..? I thought you were a martial artist?” Hercule didn’t sound accusatory, just confused. Of course he would, they’d only spoken for a short time when they met after all, so Yamcha hadn’t told him about that part of his life.

“Ahaha, I am! But I also spent a few years as a West City Taitan a while back- was pretty damn good, too- but life happened and I had to step away from it. I don’t think I stuck with it long enough to garner a fanbase or anything, so most people don’t recognize me from it. Martial arts are where my heart’s at anyways, so it was probably for the best.”

“Huh…” Hercule was quiet for a few moments. If Yamcha had to guess, Hercule was probably just surprised to learn that he used to be a professional athlete- he probably didn’t seem like the kind of guy who’d be in the major league. “A-Anyway! I called to ask if you’re free and want to come over and train with me for a while? I’ve finally got time to myself, and training with another person’ll probably do me some good after focusing on marketing so much.”

Yamcha didn’t have to think about his answer for long. 

“Hell yeah I’m up for training! Where do you live?” Yamcha wrote down the address Hercule gave him, and as Yamcha was about to say goodbye and hang up, he remembered Puar. She was looking at him intently. Maybe she wanted to come along and meet his new friend? “Wait, actually, Mr. Satan, could I bring a friend of mine along? She’s got nothing to do today and says she’d like to meet you.”

“Sure, it’s no problem! I’ll go let Videl- ah, that’s my daughter- know the two of you are coming over.”

“Alright, thanks! See you soon!” And with that Yamcha hung up, turning to a perplexed Puar.

“So, you wanna come with me? I’ll introduce you to Mr. Satan; I met him a few weeks ago when I was buying groceries. He’s a pretty strong dude, so I offered to train with him. He’s aiming to win the World Martial Arts Tournament!”

“Oooh! I wanna come along! If you like him he must be nice!! How strong is he?”

“Honestly, he probably isn’t any stronger than I was during my tournament days, but training with him should be fun. He seems like a nice guy, and you never know, maybe we can push each other to get stronger?” The smile on Yamcha’s face while thinking about sparring was nothing short of giddy- when was the last time someone had sparred with him? Definitely before that kid from the future showed up. He really was overdue.

Before long Yamcha was in his gi and landing a ways away from the address Hercule gave him with Puar in tow. He didn’t want to scare Hercule by flying right to his front door. Yamcha walked with Puar floating by his shoulder to a… very large house. Not quite a mansion, but if Yamcha had to guess, getting one was next on Hercule’s to-do list once he won the World Martial Arts Tournament. Yamcha pressed a buzzer on the tall gate that surrounded the property.

A robotic voice spoke, “Please state your name and business.”

“Uh, I’m Yamcha, here to train with Mr. Satan?”

Yamcha shared a look with Puar in the silence that followed. 

The two visitors jumped when the speaker crackled to life once more to say “Please make your way to the front door.”

After that, the gate slowly opened, allowing Yamcha and Puar to walk past the tall, well-maintained bushes that lined the inside of the fence to provide the house with privacy and up the red brick driveway. Yamcha lagged a bit to get a proper look at the house. It was made of brick similar to those of the driveway, with a garage wide enough for at least three cars. The lawn was perfect- the grass green and welcoming with a handful of young oak trees providing shade for anyone who might want to sit under them. It was absolutely breathtaking. He felt a little odd wearing his bright orange uniform to such a picturesque home, but it was a little late for regrets now.

Before they even made it up the front steps, Hercule was opening the front door, greeting them in a booming voice.

“Welcome! Come on in!” He stepped aside to let them inside the house. As Yamcha slipped his shoes off at the door, Hercule did a double-take at Yamcha’s hair. “You shoulda warned me over the phone that you went ‘n chopped all your hair off! If it weren’t for your scars I might not’ve recognized ya. You look good!”

Yamcha gave an embarrassed laugh, scratching the scar on his cheek. “Thank you, and thanks for having us!” Yamcha motioned to Puar with a smile, “This is my friend Puar, I’ve known her for the better half of my life.”

Hercule held a hand out to her. “It’s nice to meetcha, Miss Puar!” The formality made Puar giggle as she laid a tiny paw on his large palm and squeaked out a reply.

“Heehee, you can just call me Puar! You have a lovely home, Mr. Satan!”

“Aw shucks, it’s nothin’ much, but thank you! I can give y’all a quick tour around before we get down to training if you want?”

With excited nods from Yamcha and Puar, Hercule proceeded to walk them around his home, showing them the multiple bathrooms, the kitchen, guest bedrooms, and every other room until they made it to the gym, where a little girl was found swinging with purpose at a punching bag several times the size of her.

Hercule called into the room, “Videl, come say hello to our guests!”

Hearing her father, she put a hand on the punching bag to stop its swinging and jogged over to the entrance where Hercule, Yamcha, and Puar were waiting.

“Yamcha, Puar, this is my daughter Videl. She’s gonna be a fighter just like her old man!” The smile on his face clearly conveyed all the pride and love he felt for his daughter. Yamcha took a step towards her.

“Hey there Videl, sorry I didn’t properly introduce myself when I first met you and your dad- I’m Yamcha,” he held out his hand to the girl, and was surprised by the strength of her grip. “Damn-! You’re pretty strong, huh! How old are you?”

“I’m seven, and I’m the strongest kid I know, even counting all the kids older than me!” She gave such a confident smile, Yamcha had no doubt that she was telling the truth. 

“Well, if you’re this strong now, you’re definitely going to be a fighter to look out for as you get older! Do you compete in any tournaments?”

“Not yet, but I will! Most junior divisions, you gotta be at least ten years old, so until then I’m just gonna train until nobody will be able to beat me.” Her determination made Yamcha feel a little nostalgic. He barely knew this kid but he already couldn’t wait to see her succeed. Yamcha smiled as he let Puar take her turn to say hello.

“I’m Yamcha’s friend Puar! It’s nice to meet you,” Puar grabbed Videl’s hand with both of her paws, and luckily Videl didn’t use the same grip she had used with Yamcha.

“Hi Puar! Are you here to train too?”

Puar frantically waved her tiny paws in front of her face, “Oh, no! I just came to meet Yamcha’s new friends and watch him spar! I’m not a fighter.” Videl nodded in understanding before turning to her father.

“Are you gonna go spar right now? Can I watch too?”

“If our guests are ready, then I am! Do you two need anything before we get started? We’ve got drinks and such outside by the practice ring, so you don’t need to worry about that.”

Yamcha and Puar took half a moment to think before deciding they were alright. Yamcha bounced on his feet a bit, unable to contain his eagerness to get moving. 

“Alright then! Videl, could you show them outside while I go get changed?”

With a quick “Yep!” Videl was leading the two to the backyard, where they found a large, rectangular slab of concrete very similar to what was used in the World Tournament. Around the arena were a handful of tables and chairs with umbrellas, and by the back door of the house were coolers full of water, juice, and energy drinks. Yamcha let out an impressed whistle.

“You’ve got a pretty nice setup out here. You ever spar here with your dad, Videl?” Videl shrugged with a slight frown.

“Not a lot. I think he’s worried about hurting me or something. When we come out here it’s mostly for improving my form and stuff.” Yamcha gave a slow nod.

“That’s understandable. It’s easy to get hurt practicing if you aren’t careful.” He walked out onto the arena to start stretching and warming up with a few punches and kicks. Yamcha had to remind himself not to use too much of his power today; he didn’t want to scare the Satans. Videl and Puar situated themselves under one of the umbrellas, Puar sipping from a juicebox held between her paws.

A few minutes later, Hercule walked out of the house in his wine-red top, white pants, and black boots. Yamcha hadn’t ever seen him in this outfit- he’d been dressed casually in a t-shirt when they first met- so seeing how low the opening of his gi was surprised him. Unlike Goku and Krillin, Yamcha didn’t like wearing a shirt under his gi, so he was always showing quite a bit of skin, but the opening of Hercule’s gi went down way past his pecs! Yamcha had to force himself to look away from the man’s chest and find something else to focus on. 

“Those colors really suit you, Mr. Satan!” 

Hercule gave a sheepish laugh, “I’ve usually got a white cape to go with it to play up my persona, but I figured I’d leave it out for practice. What about your color? How’d you end up in that orange?”

Yamcha smiled at that. He supposed the tournament scene wasn’t quite what it used to be if Hercule couldn’t recognize the Turtle Hermit School’s uniform.

“This is the uniform of the master I trained under: Master Roshi the Turtle Hermit. Not exactly the color I would have chosen for myself, but it’s one that I’m proud to wear!” This made him think back to his training days... oh, what he’d give to have them back instead of counting down the weeks til doomsday.

“I feel like I should probably recognize that name, but it’s just not comin’ to me right now, heh, sorry pal.”

“No problem, I’ll just let my moves speak for him so that you’ll never forget it!” Yamcha gave Hercule a confident smirk to go with the taunt. “Is there anything specific you want to focus on, though?” 

Hercule thought hard for a long moment. He cleared his throat. When he spoke he almost seemed to struggle to get the words out. “Well, seein’ as you’ve made it to the quarter-finals of the Tournament three times, which is definitely no easy task, I was thinkin’- would it be okay if I go all-out at you for a bit? Just to see where I stand?

Yamcha considered this. It’s not that Yamcha would have any difficulties taking his hits, he was just worried about hurting Hercule. Eventually he figured that as long as he didn’t retaliate with too much power it’d be fine.

“Just a warning, I’m a _lot_ stronger than I was back then. I haven’t stopped training, and that training has only intensified over the years. I’m confident that I can take anything you can throw at me. For now, just try to hit me while I dodge.”

Out of the corner of his eye he could see Videl’s face scrunch up, like she thought Yamcha was exaggerating. She’d see soon enough, if Hercule still wanted to do this. Hercule straightened his spine to give Yamcha an affirmative nod.

“Y-yeah. I want- no, I _need_ to know. I can’t go into the Tournament with my guns half-cocked just because it’s worked out in all these smaller tournaments. The World Tournament is gonna bring a whole new breed of fighter, and I have to be able to stand toe-to-toe with ‘em!” As he spoke, he sounded more and more sure of what he was saying. 

“Alright then, Mr. Satan, come at me,” Yamcha spoke as he settled into his signature fighting stance.

Hercule took a few deep breaths as he prepared to make a move. As he focused his steely eyes on Yamcha, he decided to start off with a punch. To any normal person, the speed with which Hercule rushed Yamcha would’ve been insane, clearing the ten feet between them in a near-instant. Hercule threw his fist towards Yamcha’s face and-

“Bwuh-!?”

Nothing. Yamcha was nowhere in sight. Hercule would have been embarrassed by the noise he made if he wasn’t so perplexed. A soft cough from behind made him whip his head around to see Yamcha standing, still in his fighting stance, calm as if he hadn’t even moved.

Hercule quickly regained his composure, charging at Yamcha again trying for a kick this time, again only hitting air. It went on like this for a good 30 minutes, Videl watching with her jaw dropped nearly to the tabletop while Puar was trying and failing to reign in her wide smile. Yamcha hadn’t said a word the whole time, simply avoiding Hercule’s attempts at hitting him like it was the easiest thing in the world.

And for Yamcha, it was.

He only spoke up once Hercule was bent forward, hands on his knees, breathing hard and sweat dripping down his face.

“You giving up?”

“I… yeah, yeah I give. What the hell _was_ that, Yamcha? I never even saw ya move! That was probably the fastest I’ve ever moved in my life and I still couldn’t land a hit!”

Yamcha had to smile as he straightened up from his stance. He knew showing off for regular people like this shouldn’t be such a big deal, and he should probably feel a little bad for doing it, but he couldn’t deny the confidence boost Hercule’s amazement was giving him.

“That’s just the tip of the iceberg of what my kind of training can do for a guy! I’ve got a lot of power to back that speed up, too!” Somehow, Hercule’s eyes managed to get even wider to match his astonishment.

“...No shit?”

“No shit.”

Hercule looked at the ground in thought for a few moments as this information sunk in.

“Could you give me some of that training?”

**Author's Note:**

> comments are always appreciated! hmu @bobthebobking on tumblr or twitter!


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